


for old time's sake

by atetheredmind



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, R Plus L Does Not Equal J, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, it's a Stark family Christmas, just think of it like Clueless, warning: Jon and Dany used to be related by marriage but no longer are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atetheredmind/pseuds/atetheredmind
Summary: In a last-minute change of plans, Jon is able to get time off for the holidays from his job at the Night's Watch and hopes to surprise his family for Christmas.Unfortunately, he's in for a bit of a surprise himself when he finds Daenerys Targaryen, his one-time step-aunt, in his childhood bed.
Relationships: Arthur Dayne/Lyanna Stark, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling
Comments: 122
Kudos: 872





	for old time's sake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SatanicMajesty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatanicMajesty/gifts).



> Merry Christmas! I wrote this fic as a gift for daenerys-targaryen/SatanicMajesty for Jonerys Secret Santa! I hope you like it! It's mostly holiday fluff, with some smut. No angst I swear! The holiday spirit also got me feeling pretty charitable toward the Starks here. (Yes, it's Christmas in Westeros, even though they still practice the Faith of the Seven and worship the old gods. Just go with it. I added some of my own Westerosi touches to the Christmas traditions here.)
> 
> Thank you to aliciutza for beta'ing this super fast and also providing the wonderful moodboard!

* * *

As soon as Jon opened the front door, the alarm system began beeping in warning. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, quietly shutting the door and scrambling to enter the four-digit code to disarm it. _1-1-2-4_. Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat’s wedding anniversary. Thankfully, the alarm cut off before it could sound the more ear-piercing shrieks.

He held deathly still, listening for sounds of the family stirring upstairs. After a tense moment of silence, he let out a breath, relieved. The Starks weren’t expecting him for Christmas; he’d originally been scheduled to work through the holidays, just like last year, but Lord Commander Mormont had developed a last-minute change of heart and granted him the time off. Jon had kept the change of plans to himself and drove from the Wall to his aunt and uncle’s house in Winterfell. It was now after two in the morning on Christmas Eve; knowing everyone would be asleep, Jon hoped to sneak inside and wake up with the rest of them and surprise them at breakfast.

Which he couldn’t do if the alarm woke the whole bloody house.

Slipping out of his coat, Jon hung it in the closet instead of the coat rack by the door so it wouldn’t be spotted right away. He had no choice but to leave his boots by the front door, not wanting to track snow across the carpet, but it wasn’t likely they’d be noticed right away among the pile of his cousins’ boots.

As he moved through the house, he left the lights off. A heart tree had been set up in the living room, the twinkling white lights woven through its red leaves providing him enough light to see by. As he trudged up the stairs, he yawned. His patrol on the Wall had driven him to exhaustion; this was the first real time off he’d gotten since starting the job a year and a half ago.

At the top of the steps, Jon pivoted right, taking the familiar path to his old bedroom. His “home away from home,” as he’d thought of it while growing up. When he was a kid, he’d spent almost as much time at his aunt and uncle’s house as he did his mother’s house. Lyanna had been young when she’d had Jon, too young; at 17, she’d gotten knocked up on accident. The North wasn’t a very progressive or forgiving place, so she’d had Jon before her eighteenth birthday. Of course, the man responsible hadn’t stuck around. Her older brother, Ned, and his wife had just had their first child not too long before Jon was born, and they gladly opened their house to the single mother to help her through the trials and errors of first-time parenthood.

They probably hadn’t intended for it to be as indefinite a stay as it had been, but it had taken Lyanna a while to get her feet under her and into a place of her own so she could look after Jon by herself. She’d still been in high school when she had him, then once she had graduated, she’d signed up for night classes at a nearby community college and worked during the day. Cat, who was a stay-at-home mother to six children of her own, often watched over Jon while Lyanna was at work or school. Even as he got older, he was always at the Starks’ house, playing with his cousins. He was there so much, they converted an unused room into a spare bedroom for him. Eventually, Lyanna married, and things changed for a bit, but that marriage had ended rather disastrously. During the worst of those times, Jon would spend the night at his uncle and aunt’s house.

Even now, most holidays were still spent at the Starks’ house, but with a full-time job, Jon didn’t get to visit as much as he wanted to. Once he went away to university, Lyanna had moved down south to King’s Landing. Since he’d originally been scheduled to work, he wasn’t sure she was planning to come up for Christmas this year. In the morning, once he had gotten some sleep, he would call her to see; if not, he would try to spend a couple days with her for the new year before driving back to the Night’s Watch.

Creeping past the closed doors of his cousins’ rooms, Jon made it to his old room at the end of the hall without further incident. He opened the door and slipped inside, not even bothering to turn the light on as he dropped his duffel bag down beside the door. He planned to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. At this point, he was sure he could sleep for a whole day straight. He’d have to make sure he set an alarm for the morning; otherwise, he might not wake up in time to surprise everyone.

Jon stripped out of his sweater and pants, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he blindly made his way to the bed. Lifting the covers, he slid beneath them and let out a grateful groan. “ _Gods_ , that feels good.”

He rolled onto his side—and nearly jumped out of his skin when he collided with a warm body. “Fucking hell!” he exclaimed, immediately jerking away, but he got tangled in the sheets.

The stranger sat up with a gasp. “Who’s there?”

It was a fucking woman. In his fucking bed.

Jon struggled to put as much distance between them as he could. “What the fuck?” In his haste to kick the sheets off his legs, he tipped backward out of the bed and hit the floor with a thud, temporarily knocking the wind out of him.

Silence followed. Then: “ _Jon?_ Is that you?”

In the dark, it took him a second longer to process the intruder’s voice. “Dany?” he choked out.

The bedside lamp flicked on. Jon squinted against the harsh light, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Sure enough, he was staring into the bewildered face of Daenerys Targaryen. She was the stranger in his bed. Except, not so much a stranger, after all.

She looked as frazzled as he felt, peering over the edge of the bed at him. “What are you doing here?” she asked groggily.

He blinked wildly, his frayed nerves making him rudely blunt. “This is my room! What are _you_ doing here?”

Her expression turned sheepish. “Ned and Cat said you weren’t coming, so they let me have the room.”

He huffed. “Well, plans changed. I was going to surprise them.” It hit him suddenly that he was half-naked, dressed in just his boxer-briefs. His face flushed hot. “Shit. I—” Flustered, he reached back and snatched up his pants from the floor.

Dany only seemed to recognize his predicament just then as well. “ _Oh_. Um.” Politely, she looked away by directing her eyes upward as Jon hastily scrambled into his pants, grabbing his sweater off the ground to quickly pull down over his head. She had clothes on, at least, but when he looked back at her, she had modestly pulled the covers up to her neck.

Which made him feel even _more_ like a pervert, even though he’d clearly not meant to crawl into bed with the woman who used to be his aunt.

He carded a hand through his hair. “What are you even doing here?” he asked again, his voice harsher than he intended. “Why would Ned and Cat let you stay here?”

Lowering her gaze from its intent perusal of the ceiling, she scowled at his interrogating tone. “I recently moved back from Meereen. Rhaegar’s still jetsetting who knows where with his newest girlfriend, so Arya invited me to spend the holidays here.”

Jon stared at her stupidly. “What do you mean? Arya invited you?”

Dany rolled her eyes. “Just because you don’t talk to me anymore doesn’t mean everyone else stopped. Arya and I are friends. I love the Starks, too, you know.”

He blanched at her accusation. “I didn’t mean—” He blew out a breath, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to attack you. I just—I wasn’t expecting you. I had a long drive ride here. I’ll go sleep in the guest room.”

She bit her lip. “You can’t. Gendry—Arya’s boyfriend is in there. Ned wouldn’t let him stay in her room with her, obviously.”

Jon closed his eyes, suddenly so very tired.

“I’m sorry.” He opened his eyes to see her contrite expression. “I didn’t mean to steal your room. I can sleep somewhere else—” Dropping the covers, Dany started to stand, but when he saw her bare legs under her shirt, he panicked, holding his hands out.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll sleep on the couch—”

“Jon, I don’t want to put you out—”

“Dany, it’s fine,” he stressed. “You were already asleep. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just, I was going to surprise everyone in the morning, but I can still do that from the couch.”

She didn’t look convinced, still hovering next to the bed. “Are you sure?”

He waved her off, adamantly looking everywhere but her legs. “Don’t worry about it. Just go back to sleep.” He was already moving back to the door when she called after him.

“I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Aye. Goodnight.” He quickly shut the door behind him, expelling a harsh breath. Too late, he remembered he’d left his bag in there with her and stifled a groan. He’d just have to get it tomorrow.

He stood rooted to his spot a moment longer, still dazed. Only when she turned off the light, extinguishing the light shining through the bottom crack of the door, did he finally move. With a sigh, he made his way back downstairs and collapsed on the couch in the living room, grabbing the flannel blanket from the back of the couch to spread out over him. The heart tree still twinkled, but he closed his eyes against the bright glow.

As exhausted as he was, his mind was reeling too much from that unexpected encounter for him to immediately fall asleep as he’d hoped. Gods. He hadn’t seen Dany in _years_. Not since the divorce between his mother and her brother had been finalized, prior to his graduating high school. He hadn’t actually talked to her since then, either, though, admittedly, he checked up on her on social media every now and then. Just out of sheer curiosity.

He had no idea she and Arya still talked. Why hadn’t Arya ever mentioned it to him? And his aunt and uncle were apparently still close enough to Dany to welcome her into their home for the holidays. Maybe that shouldn’t surprise him so much. Uncle Ned and Cat were just that kind of people, and during Rhaegar and Lyanna’s six-year marriage, Dany had spent a lot of time with them, too. After her parents’ death, Rhaegar had become Dany’s legal guardian, so he had practically raised her. She lived with them and would visit with the Starks when Jon did.

He hadn’t _meant_ to stop talking to Dany after the divorce, he just...he didn’t know how to act around her anymore. It’d been weird enough while they were living together, having to think of her as his aunt, even if that wasn’t at all how he _felt_ about her. Anyway, it wasn’t like she had ever really reached out to him after the divorce either. As it was, Jon barely heard from his former step-father, aside from the requisite birthday text or card.

With a huff, he punched the couch pillow under his head to fluff it up before he turned on his other side, facing away from the tree. That blocked out some of the light, at least.

As he eventually drifted off to sleep, he was so preoccupied with his thoughts of Dany, he forgot to set his alarm.

* * *

Jon didn’t know if it was the high-pitched screech or the knee slamming into his back that woke him up. Probably both at once.

“JON!”

He grunted into the pillow. “Seven hells, Arya, I can’t breathe.”

Mercifully, the weight on top of him eased, and he could finally take a deep enough breath as he rolled onto his back. His little sister flung herself on top of him again, this time in a crushing bear-hug. “I can’t believe you’re here!” she squealed into his face.

Chuckling, Jon pushed up into a sitting position, despite Arya clinging to him like a monkey as he did. He noticed her boyfriend, Gendry, standing off to the side. “It’s good to see you, too, Arya,” Jon said, nodding in greeting to Gendry. He grinned in return.

Arya finally pulled away, her eyes wide in disbelief. “You said you couldn’t make it!”

“I wanted to surprise everyone,” he said, and with another squeal, she shook his shoulders excitedly.

“Everyone else is going to flip their shit when they wake up.”

“Hopefully, they won't also try to dislocate my spine,” he grumbled, reaching behind him to rub his back. Now that he was more awake, he finally got a good look at Arya and Gendry, who both looked dressed for a workout.

“You about to go for a run?” he asked.

“Yes,” Gendry answered just as Arya exclaimed, “Not now!”

Jon laughed as Gendry huffed. Arya shot him a censuring scowl. “Shut it! I haven’t seen Jon in forever! I want to catch up before everyone else wakes up and monopolizes his time.”

“So I could have slept in after all,” her boyfriend griped as Arya tugged Jon up from the couch.

“Come on, let’s get some coffee.”

“What time is it?” Jon asked as they trudged into the kitchen.

“6:15,” she answered matter-of-factly. He stopped to stare at them.

“Bloody hell. I only just went to bed. You two are animals.”

Plopping down at the dining table, Gendry pointed at Arya, who moved around the kitchen with ease, grabbing coffee mugs and pouring pre-made coffee. “She is. I just do what she says.” Jon sat down beside him.

“Damn right,” Arya said as she set down cups of coffee before them both before pulling out a chair across from Jon to curl up in. “So. Tell me everything so I can act superior when everyone else gets down here like I already knew. Oh! By the way, Dany’s here. She’s spending the holidays with us. Mum and Dad gave her your room since they thought you weren’t coming.”

“Aye, I already found that out for myself,” he grumbled into his coffee.

She grinned. “Oops.”

“I didn’t know you still talked to her,” he said, and she pulled a face.

“Why wouldn’t I? She’s family. Well, maybe not anymore, technically, but she’s still my friend.” Arya seemed to come to a delayed realization. “Wait, do you not keep in touch with her?”

Chagrined, Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, not really. I’ve been busy with work,” he said defensively, and she rolled her eyes.

“A text takes, like, no time at all.”

He changed the topic. “So, who else is here? You two, obviously. Dany.”

Arya nodded. “Robb and Jeyne. Sansa flew in from uni, too. And of course Bran and Rickon. And now you.”

“Sounds like a full house.”

Gendry grunted his agreement, but truthfully, Jon was excited. It’d been a while since he’d been able to celebrate the holidays with the whole Stark clan. Plus Dany. For some reason, he was a bit unsettled by her presence, but he wasn’t going to let it ruin his first holiday in more than a year.

* * *

Gradually, the rest of the house awoke. Ned and Catelyn were the next ones down, finding them gathered around the kitchen table. With a cry of surprise, Cat grabbed Jon’s face and planted a kiss on his forehead, before Ned pulled him in for a hug.

“Call your mother,” he told Jon immediately. “I know she’s going to kick herself even more for not coming up this year.”

Ned bombarded him with questions like Arya had, and Cat got to work making breakfast, listening as they caught up, interrupting with her own questions.

Robb and Jeyne emerged while Cat was frying up some bacon, probably roused by the smell. Jon went through the demonstrative greetings all over again, returning back slaps and kisses all while answering the same exact questions.

“You should just write it down on an index card and hang it around your neck so you don’t have to keep explaining,” Gendry joked. Jon was half-tempted.

Thankfully, Dany was the next one downstairs, so he didn’t have to repeat it all over again just yet. Except he did have to awkwardly explain to his aunt and uncle how he already knew Dany was spending the holidays with them.

“Thought you might need this,” Dany said, presenting him with his duffle bag.

With a grimace, he took it from her. “Ah, thanks.”

With a nod, she moved around him to make herself a cup of coffee. Ned squeezed Jon’s shoulder apologetically. “I can set up an air mattress in the office so you don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Dany turned to them. “I can take the air mattress.”

Jon was already shaking his head. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t either,” she insisted.

“Dany, just take the bed.”

She folded her arms stubbornly. “Jon—”

Everyone else watched their stilted exchange with keen interest, but Ned put an end to it. “You’re already settled in his room, Dany. Let Jon placate his overwrought sense of honor and take the air mattress.” He winked at Jon. “I know he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he gets the bed, knowing you’re on an air mattress.”

“ _Overwrought_ ,” Jon muttered, his face uncomfortably hot. “And who did I learn _that_ from?”

The others chuckled knowingly, the tension resolved. Dany just nodded stiffly and took her coffee to the table to sit down next to Arya.

Eventually, Sansa, Bran and Rickon made their way downstairs, though not without prompting from Ned, who yelled up the stairs that if they didn’t hurry, all the food would be gone. When she saw Jon, Sansa actually screamed, but Bran and Rickon still looked half-asleep and didn’t fully understand what the big deal was.

The whole family gorged themselves on bacon and eggs and pancakes (and premade waffles for Sansa, who had a strange disdain for pancakes). His cousins caught him up on what he’d missed since he’d last seen them. Arya and Sansa could talk anyone’s ears off, so Jon mostly listened. After breakfast, he helped clear the table and put away the dirty dishes before Cat shooed him off to relax. Ned had disappeared upstairs to put together the makeshift bed in the office, so Jon put on his coat and boots to venture out onto the porch and call his mother.

As he listened to the phone ring, he took a deep breath and surveyed the scenery. What he loved about his aunt and uncle’s house was the relative reclusivity of it, tucked away in the woods, away from the main road that connected it to the rest of civilization. Ned raised large wolfdogs on his land, which were then sold to chicken and pig farmers around the North to ward off predators. Being stationed at Eastwatch, Jon was used to the snow and the crisp, cold air. But it was never as peaceful there as it was here.

His mother answered on the fourth ring. “Jon, sweetheart? Everything OK?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Aye. I’m fine, Mum. I’m always fine.”

Lyanna sighed in relief. “Well, you know I worry about you, up there on the Wall.”

Jon grimaced but chose not to say anything. His job with the Night’s Watch was a contentious subject between them. She’d been horrified when he told her his plans to join; her younger brother, Benjen, had been an officer with the Night’s Watch too, before he’d been killed on the job during a deadly clash between his patrol team and some wildlings who were illegally trying to cross the Wall.

Growing up, Jon had looked up to Uncle Benjen. Through him, Jon had come to admire and respect the brotherhood of the Night’s Watch. He’d only thought to honor his memory by joining the Watch himself; his mother had seen it differently, insisting he’d just get himself killed, too. That had led to a huge argument between them.

Now, they rarely talked about it with each other. He knew his job was a risk; he knew she didn’t approve, and he preferred not to worry her unnecessarily.

Lyanna continued, “They’re going to overwork you one of these days. Couldn’t even give you the holidays off.”

“Actually, that’s why I called,” he said slowly. “The Lord Commander had a change of heart, and, well. I’m at Uncle Ned’s house right now. I don’t suppose you can make it up to Winterfell for Christmas, by any chance?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She sucked in a breath. “Oh, no! Oh, Jon, I already picked up extra shifts at the hospital since I didn’t think I’d get to see you.” She sighed. “Damn. I’m sorry, sweetheart—”

“It’s okay,” Jon assured her, burrowing down into his coat to ward off the chill. His breath was a cloud of crystals in the air. “It’s not your fault. I know it’s last minute. I drove down from Eastwatch overnight. I was thinking I could spend a few days here, then I could drive down to spend New Year’s Eve with you. Would that work?”

“Of course! I would love for you to visit. If you don’t mind also spending New Year’s Eve with Arthur.” That was her new boyfriend Jon still hadn’t met yet. He made a face to himself, glad she couldn’t see him.

“Sure.”

Lyanna fretted, however. “That’s a long drive, though. Are you going to be able to handle that?”

“Aye. I could make the drive to King’s Landing in a day or so.”

“Get a hotel room,” she insisted. Jon chuckled dryly. He’d acclimated to pretty strenuous conditions at the Wall; he’d even worked 24-hour shifts before. The drive to her house would be a welcome stress reliever.

But he didn’t tell her that. Instead, he said, “I will.”

They talked for a few more minutes, finalizing their plans. Jon planned to leave Winterfell the morning of the 28th and drive down to King’s Landing. If he made the trip without stopping, he could be there early on the 29th, spend a couple days with her, then drive back to Eastwatch after the new year. He could make it there by the 2nd, when he was scheduled to be back at work.

Just as he finished his call, the front door opened, and Arya and Gendry shuffled outside. They’d put on beanies and gloves this time, finally ready to commence their delayed run. “Wanna join us?” Arya asked him.

Jon shook his head. “No, thanks. You two crazies be safe out there.”

“Don’t worry,” Arya said breezily as she stretched her legs. “I meticulously plotted out our trail and printed out a map for Mum and Dad in case we don’t show up at our estimated finish time. That way they’ll know where to look for us.”

Eyes wide in horror, Gendry looked to Jon. “Well, that’s really comforting.”

Jon laughed and headed back inside.

* * *

Upstairs, Ned was just finishing setting up the air mattress when Jon walked into the office. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” Jon said, dropping his duffel bag on the floor. “I could have done it, though.”

Ned tossed a couple of extra blankets down on the mattress and turned to him with a fond smile. “Ah, let me spoil you a little. It’s been a while. It’s just an air mattress, anyway. Not the best accomodations, I’m afraid.”

Jon laughed. “Still better than the cots at Eastwatch.”

“How’s the job treating you?” Ned asked sincerely, leaning against his large oak desk. “Settling in okay?”

He shrugged uncomfortably. He was never entirely sure how Ned felt about his job; he’d been devastated by Benjen’s death, but unlike Lyanna, he never offered his opinion on Jon’s decision to join the Night’s Watch one way or another. “It’s a job. Lot of thankless grunt work, mostly.”

Ned nodded sadly. “Aye. I remember it was like that the first few years for your Uncle Benjen, too.” He pushed off the desk and smiled. “Speaking of thankless grunt work, I’ve got a job for you and Robb.”

With a groan, Jon followed his uncle out of the office. Once they tracked down Robb, the three of them got bundled up and headed out back to where the dog kennels were kept. The dogs, a rare breed of direwolves that had long ago been domesticated and were particularly adept to the harsh Northern climate, greeted them eagerly. Jon’s favorite was a large albino with snow-white fur and red eyes who never barked or growled. He trotted up to Jon first, and Jon squatted down to scratch him behind the ears.

“Hi, Ghost,” he murmured, smiling when the direwolf nosed his cheek.

After feeding the large beasts, they released the pack from the kennels to run around the land. While the dogs exercised, Ned grabbed a couple axes from the shed and handed them to Robb and Jon so they could chop some wood.

“I’m getting too old. I’ve got a bad back,” he complained when Jon and Robb shared a skeptical look.

Despite his supposed handicap, Ned stayed to help, setting up the logs on the tree stumps for Jon and Robb to split. Once they had a decent amount of chopped wood, they stacked it up by the wood shed on the log rack. Ned whistled for the dogs; obediently, the pack came running back, emerging from the woods one by one, and they rounded them back up in the kennels with fresh water. Then they grabbed a few bundles of wood to take inside and feed to the fireplace.

“My hero,” Jeyne said dramatically once the fire was blazing anew. She planted a kiss on Robb’s cheek when he plopped down on the couch between her and his mother.

“What am I, chopped mutton?” Jon groused. Cat grabbed his hand and squeezed it as he walked by.

“You’re _my_ hero,” she told him.

“You have to say that, he’s your nephew,” Robb joked, and they laughed. When Cat wasn’t looking, Jon flipped him off then left to find people who would actually appreciate his usefulness. That ended up being Bran and Rickon in the upstairs loft who roped him into playing a video game with them.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when his stomach growled. Having worked up an appetite from the wood chopping earlier, he tapped out of the game and wandered back downstairs to the kitchen for something to snack on. The aroma of freshly baked cookies greeted him, making his mouth water. At the large kitchen island, he saw Dany and Sansa perched on stools, trays of sugar cookies before them. They both had aprons on and piping bags in hand. He almost backed out of the room, but they looked up before he could reverse course.

“Are those for us?” he asked, walking farther into the kitchen.

Sansa made a snotty face. “If you want to eat them, you have to help decorate them.”

He sighed, weighing his hunger against his desire to _not_ do that. “Fine,” he relented and sat down on the empty stool next to Dany. “As long as you don’t care how bad they look.”

Dany handed him a piping bag full of green icing. “Doesn’t matter how they look if you’re just going to eat them,” she pointed out, rather smartly. He couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Yes, it does matter! I want to get some good photos for my blog when they’re done. So don’t just haphazardly squirt icing on them,” Sansa scolded. “At least _try_ to make them look pretty.”

“Why did I just get a flashback to Mr. Barristan’s art class?” Jon muttered as he grabbed a cookie from one of the trays and placed it on the wax paper in front of him. It was shaped like a pine tree, so most of the work was already done for him, at least.

Dany gasped. “Oh gods, Mr. Barristan! I remember him,” she said with clear fondness. “I loved him. He once told me what I lacked in artistic talent, I made up for in sheer determination.”

Jon raised his eyebrows. “And you loved him for that?”

Dany shrugged. “He was tough but fair. Anyway, he was right. I’m shit at painting.”

Caught off guard, he laughed. For some reason, he hadn’t expected her use of profanity. As if they were still kids or something. Unbidden, he thought of her bare legs and her thin sleep shirt from the night before, and immediately sobered. No, she was definitely _not_ a kid anymore.

Sansa wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You two aren’t doing much to recommend your decorating skills right now.”

“I bet you’re fun in group projects,” Jon retorted. Dany bit down on her lip to stifle a laugh, but Sansa stuck her tongue out at him.

“I might not be fun, but I’ve always gotten A’s on group projects, thank you very much. Now, ice the cookies.”

Shaking his head, Jon tried to focus on the task at hand. Not quite sure what to do first, he squirted the green icing on the tree. He was a bit too heavy-handed, however; the icing was runnier than he thought, and more shot out than he was prepared for, dripping down the sides of the cookie to puddle on the wax paper.

He made a face to himself. “Well, shit.”

“I think you’re supposed to make an outline first, then fill it in so it won’t run over,” Dany instructed, demonstrating with the red icing on her Christmas sweater-shaped cookie.

“It’s called _flooding_ ,” Sansa explained, not looking up from her snowman cookie. Her outline was perfect and clean, while Dany’s looked kind of wobbly. Still, it was better than Jon’s.

He sighed. “Couldn’t you have just made chocolate chip cookies that don’t require any extra work?”

“That’s not very Christmas-y,” Sansa said matter-of-factly. “And doesn’t generate clicks. Nobody wants to see boring chocolate chip cookies they can see anywhere.”

Jon lifted his cookie to examine it, then took a bite out of it. The icing was wet and sticky but sweet, the cookie just faintly warm inside. “Tastes better than it looks, at least,” he remarked through the bite. Sansa looked at him, outraged, and he quickly swallowed. “Hey, you said I could eat it if I decorated it.”

“I can’t put them on my blog if you eat them all first!” she huffed.

“If I’m the one decorating them, that’s probably a good thing.”

Dany laughed, but Sansa pointed her finger to the kitchen entryway with dramatic flourish. “ _Out_. You’ve been banned from cookie decorating. Go find something else to eat!”

Shoving the rest of his cookie in his mouth, Jon happily got up from his stool. “Fine, I’m going,” he said around another mouthful of cookie, taking a banana from the fruit basket on his way. As he was leaving the kitchen, Arya appeared, freshly showered after her run with Gendry. Her eyes brightened.

“Do I smell cookies?” she asked hopefully.

“You stay out, too!” Sansa yelled at her.

* * *

Dinner that night was a hearty pot roast with roasted root vegetables. Jon couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so well. Probably the last time he’d visited the Starks. With eleven people, the table was crowded, the meal loud and raucous; then again, every meal with them was. Jon was mostly quiet, just reveling in the warmth and love.

After dinner, he called it an early night. He was still exhausted from his drive from Eastwatch and the few hours’ sleep he’d gotten the night before. Retreating upstairs, Jon took a quick shower then closed himself up in the office. He passed out with relative ease, despite sleeping on an air mattress.

He made sure to wake up early, not wanting to miss a moment of Christmas morning with the Starks. After getting dressed in black jeans and a flannel button-up, he headed downstairs. The house was still quiet. Apparently, he was the first one up this time. In the living room, the heart tree twinkled, wrapped presents spilling out from underneath its red leaves. Jon felt a twinge of regret. He had nothing to contribute this year. Still, it would be nice watching the others gleefully tear into their gifts. He was just glad to not be spending another Christmas in dreary Eastwatch.

Jon went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Remembering that Sansa and Aunt Cat had prepared cinnamon rolls from scratch the night before to be baked on Christmas morning, he pulled the trays out of the fridge and set the oven to preheat. He was just popping the trays into the oven when Cat and Ned walked into the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Cat said, kissing his cheek. “Happy Christmas, Jon. We’re so glad you could be here this year.”

“Happy Christmas,” he said and hugged Ned next. The man was already dressed in layers, as he had to go feed the dogs. “You want me to go wake everyone?”

Ned shook his head. “They’ll be up eventually. It’s a far cry from when you lot were kids, huh? Arya and Bran used to run into our room to wake us up, while you and Robb would already be downstairs, shaking presents and deciding which ones you wanted to open first.”

Sheepish, Jon laughed. “And we’d pick the big ones first, of course. Mum always told me it was in poor taste.”

Ned winced. “I think she just felt bad that she couldn’t afford you bigger gifts at the time. We tried to make sure you got as many things to open as everyone else, though.”

Discomfited, Jon shrugged it off. “Well, I don’t have anything to give anyone this year, unfortunately.”

“Your being here is gift enough,” Cat said with a wink, patting his scruffy cheek before moving aside to pour her and Ned some coffee. She put his in a tumbler so he could take it outside to the kennels with him.

It wasn’t much longer before everyone else was up. Naturally early risers, Arya and Gendry were the first down, dressed in matching plaid pajamas. Jon laughed at how ridiculous they looked, until he saw Robb and Jeyne similarly dressed.

“Okay, now this is just sickening.”

Arya elbowed his side before flopping down on the couch, squeezing between Gendry and the arm of the sofa. “Don’t be a Grinch.”

Sansa and Dany came down one after the other. In contrast to her siblings, Sansa was dressed impeccably, her hair styled in camera-ready waves, her makeup flawless (if a bit heavy for eight in the morning). Around her neck she had her fancy DSLR camera, the one she’d been gifted for a previous Christmas, ready to snap photos for her blog, which, he’d been informed at dinner the night before, had become a pretty popular lifestyle blog.

After hugging his cousin, Jon found himself face to face with Dany. She was dressed in leggings and an oversized sweater, her hair plaited in a simple braid. She was effortlessly pretty. He hated that he noticed that, but he’d never been able to ignore it, even when they’d lived together.

Awkwardly, he leaned in to hug her. She was small and soft against him, and she smelled like citrus. He pulled away before he could linger too long. “Happy Christmas,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

She gave him a tight smile. “Happy Christmas, Jon,” she said, then joined the others on the couch. Robb and Jeyne were cuddled in an armchair. Having returned from feeding the dogs, Ned went upstairs to rouse Bran and Rickon while Cat got the cinnamon rolls out of the oven.

“Do we want to eat first or open presents?” she called from the kitchen.

“Open presents!” Arya yelled immediately. Cat reappeared, shaking her head affectionately.

A few minutes later, Ned had returned with his bleary-eyed sons dragging behind him, and they gathered around the tree. “Robb, you’re the oldest, so you pass out the gifts,” Ned told him. He squeezed out from underneath Jeyne on the chair and shuffled to the heart tree to dole out the presents.

Once everyone had a gift in hand, they began ripping off the paper. Jon stood next to the couch, braced against the wall as he sipped his coffee and watched. Most of them were adults now, so gone were all the toys they used to get as kids. Now, they were excited to get clothes and gadgets and books. Of course, Rickon and Bran received a lot of video games and related accessories, while Sansa was happy with her makeup products and camera lenses. Arya got a new pair of running shoes and workout gear, and Robb and Jeyne gushed over the kitchen appliances to help stock their new house. Even Dany and Gendry had gifts to open, since their presence had been expected; Gendry opened a box to discover a pair of snow boots, and Dany got a collection of vintage-looking books.

“Wait!” Arya exclaimed suddenly, halting the gift-opening extravaganza. “Jon doesn’t have anything to open!”

“I didn’t bring anything for you guys either,” he explained quickly, but Ned peered behind the heart tree and pulled out a long, flat box.

“Cat and I were going to mail this to you, but you saved us the shipping fees,” he said with a smile.

Embarrassed, Jon put his coffee down and accepted the box. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

They watched him as he carefully tore off the wrapping and opened the box. Digging through layers of tissue paper, he pulled out a black leather jacket. “Oh, wow,” he said, genuinely awed.

“Figured it could help keep you warm up at the Wall,” Ned said.

“Thank you,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with unexpected emotion. He forced a grateful smile. “Black was always—”

“—always your color, aye, we know,” Robb finished for him, making everyone else laugh. Jon discreetly flipped him the finger, for the second time in as many days, and everyone quickly resumed opening their presents, for which Jon was thankful. Anything to get the attention off of him.

* * *

“You know, before Gendry and I started dating, he’d never even _seen_ snow,” Arya declared. That surprised Jon, who sent an incredulous look in her boyfriend’s direction.

They were seated in the living room—Jon, Arya, Gendry, Rob, Jeyne and Dany—drinking spiked eggnog. It was nearing midnight on Christmas day; it’d been a long day of opening gifts and eating food and watching classic Christmas movies. Now, they were curled up around the warmth of the fireplace, indulging in Christmas spirits and snacking on Sansa’s perfectly decorated sugar cookies. She’d taken photos of them with her new camera lens and finally allowed them to be eaten while retreating upstairs to draft her blog posts. Ned and Cat had gone to bed about an hour ago, and Bran and Rickon had scurried off to play their new video games, once the forced family time had finally been obliged.

At Arya’s revelation, Gendry groaned. “I grew up in King’s Landing! It doesn’t get cold enough to snow,” he groused. “And I’d seen snow before. Just...not in person.”

Arya grinned. “The first time we went running in it, he busted his arse because he thought regular running shoes were fine.”

They all laughed, except Dany, who offered him a sympathetic look. “It never snows in Meereen, either. I almost forgot what the stuff looked like while I was over there.”

“Oh, I feel so sad for you,” Jeyne mocked good-naturedly. Her legs were draped across Robb’s lap, and she was sipping hot chocolate instead of the eggnog since she was pregnant (which they’d only just announced that morning as part of Ned and Cat’s Christmas present—their soon-to-be first grandchild). “You spent six years studying in basically paradise. Meanwhile, I don’t think it’s stopped snowing since I moved up here with Robb two years ago.”

“Hey, I thought you loved the North,” Robb exclaimed with feigned offense. She patted his hand.

“Does anyone not from the North actually love the North, or do they just tolerate it?” she mused.

“Tolerate it,” Dany and Gendry chimed together, and the three of them cracked up. Arya and Robb looked wounded.

“I don’t even know who I married anymore,” Robb intoned. Noticing Jon’s silence, he turned to him. “You’re awfully quiet. Tell me you don’t agree with these uncultured heathens.”

He made an apologetic face. “After two years at the Wall...I’m kind of over the cold, too.”

His cousins groaned while the others cheered. “One of us! One of us!” Jeyne chanted. Jon laughed, raising his glass in salute.

Shaking her head, Arya climbed up from the couch. “I refuse to listen to these lies and slander any longer.” She grabbed her boyfriend’s hand and pulled him up with her. “Come on. We gotta get up early to resume our training.” Gendry groaned again, and she scoffed. “You’re never going to qualify for the Ironborn triathlon with that attitude!”

They said their farewells, which prompted Robb and Jeyne to get up from the couch. “We’re right behind you,” he said. “Goodnight, guys.”

“Night,” Jon and Dany said in unison as the other two followed Arya and Gendry up the stairs. Belatedly, Jon realized that left him alone with Dany, but he couldn’t extract himself now without making it obvious. A palpable beat of silence stretched between them where Dany seemed to realize the same. Clearing his throat, he finished off his eggnog. “Ah, I’m going to get a beer. You want one?” he asked as he stood up.

She shrugged, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was seated on the floor close to the fireplace, her socked feet tucked under a pillow. “Sure.”

Standing up, Jon took his empty cup to the kitchen to rinse it out and put it in the dishwasher. Then he crossed to the fridge and rummaged through the overflowing stock of food to find a six-pack of beer. Grabbing two bottles, he quickly uncapped them with a bottle opener and headed back into the living room.

Accepting one of the beers, Dany thanked him. She drained the last of her eggnog and put the cup aside as Jon took up his position in the armchair again. “There’s plenty of room on the couch now, you know,” he pointed out, but she smiled.

“It’s okay. I like the fire,” she said, casting a look at the dancing flames in the hearth. It was bigger than it was a moment ago; she must have fed another log to it while he was in the kitchen.

Sipping his beer, Jon racked his brain for something to talk about. With her, it was easier when others were around. They seemed to know more about her life than he did, which perplexed him. “I guess you would like the heat if you lived in Meereen for so long,” he finally said.

She smiled. “My temperature tolerance to extreme climates certainly helped.”

“Did you really not like Winterfell when you lived here? With—Rhaegar and us, I mean,” he clarified artlessly.

Dany hummed pensively. “I liked it enough to move back, if that counts for anything. At the time, I was indifferent to it, I guess, but nostalgia is funny like that.”

“Oh,” he said. Why did that rankle him? He swigged his beer, and she did the same. “I didn’t realize.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have expected you to,” she said bluntly.

Jon frowned. “What does that mean?”

With an amused huff, she rolled her eyes. “I know you didn’t like having me around, when Rhaegar and Lyanna were married.”

He spluttered on his beer. “What?” he coughed, bewildered. “Why—what makes you think that?”

“The same reason you didn’t talk to me or keep in touch after they divorced,” she said.

He opened and closed his mouth before he finally found his voice. “That wasn’t—wait a minute. It works both ways, you know,” he retorted, suddenly indignant. “I don’t recall you reaching out to me at any point.”

She fixed him with a knowing look. “Because I knew you hated me. You were always so...broody and standoffish around me, but around your cousins, you just lit up.”

Jon stared at her, blood rushing to his face. “Shit.” Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Oh, bloody hell. I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but...I definitely didn’t hate you, Dany.” Mortifyingly, the alcohol was loosening his tongue, but he felt he owed her the truth, however embarrassing. “I was broody and standoffish with you because—because I thought you were _cute_. And that was just bloody weird since my mum was married to your brother and we were technically family.”

A stunned beat followed his admission, and he grimaced behind his hand. “ _Oh_ ,” she finally said, and he lowered his hand to look at her. Her eyes were wide as she processed this. “I—oh. Okay.” She shook her head. “I had...no idea.”

He winced, picking at his beer label. “I mean—I hoped it wasn’t, but at the time I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Wonderingly, Dany shook her head again. “No. Well, not to me, at least.”

Jon snorted. “Come on. You have to know how pretty you are.” He might not be a bloody teenage boy anymore, but even saying the words out loud now still made him blush.

She made a face and laughed. “As a teenage girl? No, I assure you I absolutely did not. And anyway, other guys didn’t ignore me if they thought I was pretty. You acted the exact opposite!”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Because you were my aunt! Or, step-aunt. Whatever you bloody were. It was _weird_. You were my age, and you were pretty, and suddenly you were living with us. It was basically hell.”

She bit down on her lip, trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head in wonder and palmed her forehead. “Seven hells. You’re kind of blowing my mind right now.”

“You really thought I hated you?”

“Yes!”

He sank down into the armchair. “Sorry. I didn’t realize my, ah, aloofness made me come off like a prick.”

“I mean, it did, but...I get it. Now, at least. Wow.” She seemed amazed and regarded him with fresh eyes. “You must be terrible at flirting with girls.”

He looked at her, affronted. “Hey. I’ve had two girlfriends. I’m doing alright for myself.”

She raised her eyebrows at him from behind her beer. “And I bet you everything they’re the ones who asked you out first.”

He scowled at her. “Aye,” he confirmed grudgingly.

She laughed heartily at that, covering her mouth, and he grabbed a pillow to chuck at her. She deflected it away from the fire, lifting her beer over her head so it wouldn’t spill. “It’s a compliment! Really. That just means they were drawn to you in _spite_ of your shit attitude.”

Jon laughed despite himself, relaxing. At least, they’d finally cleared the air. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so awkward around her now that he’d gotten that secret off his chest. For some reason, as an adult, Dany knowing he was attracted to her didn’t feel quite as dire as it’d felt at thirteen.

* * *

It was his last day with the Starks, and Jon planned to make the most of it. It was tradition that they would go ice skating at a pond in nearby Wintertown that always froze over in the winter months. This time, Cat, Sansa and Jeyne opted out in favor of going shopping to take advantage of the after-Christmas sales and exchange gifts that either didn’t fit or weren’t exactly what had been requested.

Everyone else, excluding Ned who was “too bloody old” to be ice skating and needed to tend to the kennels, crowded into Robb’s and Arya’s cars to make the drive to the frozen pond. Even Rickon and Bran tore themselves away from their video games long enough to participate. Gendry, who didn’t own his own pair, borrowed Ned’s old, unused skates that luckily happened to fit him. Dany still had her skates from when she was a teenager, and Jon always stored his at the Starks for whenever he visited.

The pond was a well-kept secret among the locals, so only a few people were already there skating when they arrived. It had been some years since Jon had lasted skated; he hadn’t realized how rusty he was until he took a few shaky laps around the pond. Everyone but Gendry and Dany were zooming past him. It was Gendry’s first time, so, after completing a few laps in record time, Arya finally took pity on her boyfriend and slowed down to guide him around by the hand. It was like watching a newborn fawn try to walk on shaky legs for the first time.

Jon couldn’t help but laugh when Gendry inevitably went down, his legs shooting out in opposite directions so he was practically doing a full split on the ice. Unfortunately, Jon laughed so hard, he lost his balance and flopped backward on his arse. Dany, who’d been slowly creeping along behind him, erupted in peals of laughter.

For that reason, he didn’t feel _too_ bad tripping her as she skated by. She shrieked in surprise, but at least she had the grace to pitch forward into a snowdrift.

Once he unsteadily climbed to his feet, Jon extended an olive branch and helped Dany up from the snow. Except, when she turned to him, she smashed a handful of snow into his face. He was too surprised to cry out.

Wet snow clumped to his beard, fluttering from his eyelashes as he blinked in disbelief. “Okay. I deserved that.”

She smiled innocently, her cheeks and nose flushed pink from the cold. “Yep.”

Jon brushed the snow from his face then held up his hands. “Truce?”

Dany eyed him skeptically before agreeing. “Truce.”

They resumed skating, keeping to the outside of the pond so the faster skaters could make their laps without interference. Jon searched out Robb; he was practically skating backwards and doing combination spins in the middle of the ice.

“Show-off,” he muttered to himself. But the longer they skated, the easier it became; it was like riding a bike. Eventually he grew more confident on his skates, Dany, too, and they picked up their speed. Gendry, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. Arya was having to pick him up off the ice every few minutes.

“How can you run a bloody marathon but not ice skate?” she yelled, exasperated.

“Usually, I’m not running on ice,” he shot back.

“Arya’s scary when she’s competitive,” Dany stage-whispered to Jon.

He shrugged. “At her height, it’s like having a grumpkin yell at you. It’s more cute than scary.”

Dany laughed lightly. “So, you’re leaving tomorrow?” she asked, abruptly changing the topic. “Driving down to King’s Landing?”

“Aye. I gotta leave early in the morning.”

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked hesitantly.

Caught off guard, Jon looked at her. “You want to go to King’s Landing?”

She nodded, her eyes fixed ahead on the ice. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Lyanna. I’d like to surprise her.”

“I was just going to drive straight through, spend the New Year with her, then drive back,” he said uncertainly. “I’ve got to get back to Eastwatch by the 2nd.”

“That’s fine. I don’t have anywhere to be just yet these days.” She shrugged. “If you don’t mind dropping me off back in Winterfell on your way to Eastwatch.”

He mulled it over, still surprised she wanted to spend the new year with him and his mother. “Okay. Sure. I can do that.”

* * *

They left early the next day so Jon could get a headstart on the long drive ahead of them. Only Ned, Cat, Arya and Gendry were up at that godsawful hour, so Jon hugged them goodbye, as did Dany, though with the expectation she would see them again in a few days.

Before leaving, Jon called Lyanna to let her know he was on his way, though he didn’t mention Dany was with him, per her request. “Drive safe! And stop and rest if you have to,” Lyanna pleaded. “You know I worry about you.”

“I know, I’ll be careful,” he promised, artfully dodging the topic of resting. He and Dany might have cleared the air between them, but the possibility of having to spend the night somewhere on the road with her was still one he hoped to avoid.

Thankfully, the roads were quiet this time of day, especially around the holidays. Cat had sent them off with a tumbler of hot coffee each, plus some Christmas treats Sansa had wrapped in a pretty tin to give to Lyanna.

They’d only just merged onto the Kingsroad when the first problem arose: chiefly, who had control of the radio. It had been pre-set to a news program, the volume turned low, as it always was in his car. As Jon was changing lanes on the highway, Dany reached across the console to change stations.

Alarmed, he cut his eyes to her. “What are you doing?”

“Finding some music,” she said. “Otherwise, I’m going to fall asleep.”

Keeping his gaze trained on the road ahead of him, Jon frowned. “I like to listen to the news while I’m driving.”

“The passenger always gets dibs on the music selection, though.”

He made a sound of disbelief. “Since when? My car, my choice.”

“But you’re the one driving,” she explained patiently. “Your attention should be on the road, or we could crash and die. That’s why the passenger gets to pick.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Or you just leave it on the radio station I already picked, and nobody has to die.”

She was unfazed. “Look, I don’t make the rules. The passenger in the shotgun seat is the DJ as well as your navigator. That’s just basic road trip etiquette.”

“I don’t think that’s true, at all,” Jon argued.

“I’m open to music suggestions,” Dany said, smiling.

He rolled his eyes but finally relented. “Fine. Just pick something not-shitty.”

Triumphant, Dany reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. “I don’t listen to shitty music,” she said as she scrolled through her music playlists. Then, switching the radio to bluetooth, she synced her phone with it. After a moment, music began to play.

Almost instantly, Jon groaned. “Podrick Payne? _Now_ I remember why I didn’t like living with you.”

She laughed airily. “Nuh uh. That doesn’t work since now I know the _real_ reason why you didn’t like me then.”

His face went hot, and he clamped his mouth shut, deciding to just suck it up and suffer through her music choices. Podrick Payne really wasn’t _that_ bad, but he would never admit it out loud.

As the music played, Dany hummed along quietly, watching the passing scenery from her window. Jon took a careful swig of his coffee, his other hand loosely draped on the steering wheel. Only after the next song began to play did Dany speak again. “Have you met your mum’s new boyfriend yet?”

He shook his head. “No. They’ve only been together a few months, and this is the first extended vacation I’ve been able to get.”

“He seems nice,” she said, and he glanced at her.

“Have you met him?” he asked suspiciously.

“No, but Lyanna called me on my birthday, and we talked for a while. She told me about him then.”

Jon felt strangely guilty realizing he hadn’t known the extent of his mother’s relationship with Dany, even after the divorce. “She hasn’t told me much,” he admitted. Dany turned the music down to hear him better.

“Maybe she’s worried you won’t like him.”

He laughed slightly. “Don’t know what my opinion matters.”

“It matters,” Dany said simply, shrugging. “She understands how weird it can be for you, since it was just you and her for a while.”

He let that sit awkwardly for a moment before responding. “Well, she’s on her own now, so she doesn’t have to worry about what I think about who she dates.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Did she tell you this?” He wasn’t sure he liked the thought of them talking about him.

“No, but I remember what it was like with Rhaegar,” she said, and he looked at her.

“What does that mean?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t like him much either.”

He huffed. “Well. Of course, I didn’t. It’s weird when your mum just up and marries some guy, and suddenly you’ve got a new father figure in your life.”

Dany hummed noncommittally, then teased, “You sure you just didn’t think he was cute?”

He flashed her a scowl. “If you’re going to rib me about that the entire drive, I demand control of the radio.”

She laughed, defensively holding her hands up. “I swear, that was the last joke!” Picking up her phone, she began scrolling through it and changed the song. “Here, a peace offering.”

Jon recognized the song as one he liked. He looked at her, mildly impressed. “How did you know I like Brotherhood without Banners?”

She shrugged. “I think Arya mentioned it. You two went to a concert once, right?”

“Aye.”

She tapped her temple. “Memory like a steel trap. Which is why I make such a good lawyer.”

“Lawyer? What?” he asked, stunned.

She looked exasperated. “Yes, Jon. I studied to become a lawyer. That’s why I was in Meereen.”

Embarrassed, he flushed. “I knew you were studying in Meereen. I just...didn’t realize it was law school.”

Pulling her knees up in her seat, Dany got comfortable. “Well, it wasn’t technically a law school. It was their MA program on social justice and human rights. That’s why I picked Meereen University specifically. I got my undergrad there, then was accepted to the graduate program. I just completed my master’s over the summer.”

“So you came back to find a job here?”

“I’m taking some time off to decide,” she replied, glancing out the window. “I’m not sure if I want to stay here in Westeros and find a job relevant to my interests or...move to Essos for good, I guess.”

“Shit,” he said. “I had no idea. I mean, congratulations.”

She laughed. “Obviously, there’s a lot you have no idea about me.” When he began to protest, she hurriedly added, “And there’s probably a lot I don’t know about you. So let’s play a game: 21 Questions.”

He gave her a dubious look. “You can’t be serious.”

“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, so why not?”

She had a point. “Fine, you start then.”

Dany racked her brain for a minute. “I already know where you went to school and what you studied—” At his doubtful expression, she answered without missing a beat, “White Harbor, philosophy.” She laughed as his skepticism turned to shock. “Arya’s a talker. You know you’re her favorite, right? I think she loves you even more than her brothers.”

Shaking his head, he said, “Just start the game. Ask me something you _don’t_ already know.”

“Hm. Okay, who was your first girlfriend?”

“You mean Arya didn’t tell you that?” he snarked.

Dany snorted. “No, I think your love life is one subject she had no interest in touching, understandably. But I know it was a redhead, right? You shared some pictures on Instagram at some point.”

“Aye.” He grimaced to himself, signaling as he changed lanes to get around a slow driver. “Ygritte.”

They fell into silence, until Jon realized she was waiting for him to elaborate, her eyebrows raised expectantly. “Ah. Well. We met my first year at White Harbor. She was actually a year ahead. We had the same econ class.” He shrugged. “She sat down beside me one day and asked if I wanted to get lunch with her after. I agreed. We dated for two years.”

“And why did you break up?” Dany prompted.

He cleared his throat. “She hooked up with one of my friends.”

Dany squawked in outrage. “ _She cheated on you?_ ”

Jon winced again, though the memory was more humiliating than painful now. “Technically, no. We were on a break at the time, I guess. We fought a lot at the end, so it was on and off. But that was kind of the last straw for me.”

She snorted. “I bet.”

“Who was your first boyfriend?” he asked, eager to divert the focus from him and his failures in love.

She replied immediately. “Drogo, though if you want to go tit for tat, the boyfriend who cheated on _me_ was Daario.”

“Really?”

She wrinkled her nose. “And we were definitely _not_ on a break when I walked in on him fucking his coworker.”

“Fucking hell,” Jon barked out, whipping his head around to gape at her before quickly turning back to the road. “You didn’t.”

She nodded solemnly. “I did. I’d come to his apartment to surprise him for his birthday. I’d originally thought I’d have to work all night, but I got off early. Well.” Dany rolled her eyes. “It was certainly a surprise, in any case.”

He couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Fuck’s sake. I’m sorry, really. That’s awful.”

She lifted her shoulder. “Well, unfortunately, he wasn’t my worst boyfriend. That was definitely the first. I’ll take cheating over abusive and controlling any day.”

He sobered immediately, his jaw clenching. “Drogo, was it? Got a last name?”

Snorting, Dany shook her head. “I appreciate the sentiment, but Rhaegar already did the big-brother thing and threatened him bodily harm. I haven’t talked to him in years, anyway.”

“Good,” Jon muttered.

“Who was your other girlfriend?” Dany asked. “You said you had two.”

“Val. No dramatic breakup or revelations with her, at least,” he said.

“Well done you,” she joked, and he smiled despite the uncomfortable subject.

“Current boyfriend?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he wanted to kick himself.

Dany scoffed. “No. After Daario, I basically swore off men and threw myself into my studies. I knew I was coming back to Westeros once I was done, anyway, and I had no interest in doing long-distance.”

“Reasonable,” he conceded, not quite sure why he was pleased by the information.

She shifted in her seat to face him more directly. “What about you? I have a feeling your job isn’t very conducive to dating.”

He smiled wryly. “No, not very conducive to forging and maintaining human relationships, in general.”

The soft singing coming from the speakers was the only sound for a moment until Dany asked, with more hesitance than she’d demonstrated so far, “Do you like it? Your job?”

Jon didn’t say anything for a moment, battling with himself. “I don’t know,” he answered haltingly, but honestly. “I guess I had a rather idealized idea of the Night’s Watch for a long time. Mostly because of Uncle Benjen, but...it’s just not what I expected.” He shrugged, not sure what else to say.

She nodded in understanding. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, though Jon was too lost in his thoughts to really notice. He started when Dany asked rather abruptly, “What’s your favorite movie?”

He chuckled. “Wait. You asked the last question. It’s my turn.”

She held up her hands. “Fine. Hit me with your most riveting question.”

He deliberated for a while but came up with nothing good. “What’s your favorite movie?” he asked lamely. She just laughed.

* * *

The game helped pass the time quickly, though eventually they stopped asking questions and just let the conversation flow wherever it naturally went. Around noon, Jon stopped to get gas in a backwater town a little ways past Moat Cailin. They decided to stretch their legs and grab lunch at a nearby restaurant. It was slim pickings, so their only real choice was a place called Gatehouse. The restaurant was surprisingly busy, probably because it was the only place for travelers to eat for the next twenty miles or so.

Once they were back on the road, Dany put her sunglasses on and huddled down for a nap. While she slept, Jon changed the station back to his blessed talk radio and settled in for a long, quiet trek through the Neck.

After about half an hour, he grew restless. He actually missed the conversation and entertainment Dany had provided during the first few hours of the drive. Jon glanced sideways at her; she’d taken off her thick winter coat at the restaurant earlier. Since the weather south of Winterfell wasn’t nearly as cold, she opted to keep it off. Instead, she’d balled it up to use as a pillow, cushioned between her head and the passenger-side window. As she slept, her mouth gaped open in silent snores; he almost laughed at the sight. She looked completely dead to the world.

Even so...she was still the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. The only thing that had changed since they were teenagers was that she was even more beautiful now. That, and he was seriously regretting shutting her out of his life the way he had, especially after the divorce. She was surprisingly easy to talk to now, though he had a feeling if he’d just gotten over himself sooner, he would have always found that to be the case.

Swallowing against the sudden tightness in his throat, he cursed to himself and forced his eyes on the road. He spent the next hour mentally berating himself and resisting the urge to sneak covetous glances her way. He didn’t need to feel like an even bigger creep than he already did.

After some time, Dany finally stirred from her nap. With a wince, she stretched out the stiff muscles in her neck and, embarrassed, discreetly wiped at the dried drool at the corner of her mouth.

“What time is it?” she asked groggily.

Jon checked the time. “Ten after 5.”

She craned her neck to peer out the window, checking for landmarks. “Is that the Vale over there? Are we out of the Neck yet?”

“Aye.”

Dany tossed her winter coat in the backseat with his new leather coat he’d taken off earlier, then resumed her window gazing. “Gods, I forgot how beautiful Westeros can be.”

“Even compared to Essos?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“It’s not better or worse. Just different.” She tapped her finger against the window, pointing in the direction of the hazy mountains on the horizon. “Like that, there’s nothing like that in Essos. Not the parts I’ve been to, anyway.”

“No snow either,” he added, and she laughed. The sound was deep and husky with sleep, sending a jolt straight to his cock. _Bloody hell._ He coughed and cleared his throat, shifting in his seat to will the sensation away.

“No snow,” she confirmed, oblivious to his predicament. “Though, I suppose sometimes Braavos gets cold enough for it to snow, but it’s rare.”

She fell quiet again as she studied the surrounding landscape, and they drove in silence for a while. Soon, the sun set, and it was too dark to see much of anything beyond the headlights of cars driving the other way and the city lights of towns they passed.

Somewhere around Darry, Dany offered to drive, after observing Jon shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying to stretch out his legs and back.

“I’m fine,” he insisted stubbornly, though the repetitiveness of the drive had made his eyes heavy.

“Just let me drive for a little bit while you rest. I promise I won’t crash your car.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Well, I wasn’t worried you would, but now that you’ve put the idea in my head—”

“Jon, don’t be a hero,” she said sternly, glaring him down with an intensity that made him squirm, even in the dark. Finally, he relented.

“Fine. We can switch at the next exit.”

They found a rest area to stop at so they could both use the bathroom and stock up on snacks and water from the vending machines. As promised, Jon handed over the keys and got settled in the passenger seat while Dany climbed into the driver's side.

“Does this mean I’m the DJ now?” he asked as she adjusted the seat and mirrors to her height.

She rolled her eyes. “If you’ll notice, I didn’t say a word about the talk radio you changed it to.”

“Probably because you were asleep,” he retorted, but as a concession, he connected his phone to his bluetooth and found some music to listen to while she got them back on the road. If she objected to his song selections, she didn’t say anything. Jon only meant to rest his eyes, wanting to stay awake in case Dany encountered any problems, but eventually, lulled by the hypnotic rocking motions of the car, he nodded off.

The next thing he knew, Dany was gently shaking him awake. “Jon?”

He blinked his eyes open. “Hm?”

“We’re here.”

He jerked up straight and looked around, confused. It was still night out. “Already?” He rubbed at his face.

“It’s two in the morning. I think this is the correct address, right?”

Pulling out his phone, Jon checked the GPS. “Aye,” he said, a bit dumbfounded. “Shit. I’m sorry, Dany. Didn’t mean to sleep for so long.”

She smiled softly. “It’s fine. You clearly needed it. I got us here in one piece, in any case.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, and she shrugged it off. “Let me see if I can get a hold of my mum.” He tapped her contact on his phone and waited as it rang. When she answered, he braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of concern.

“Jon? Is everything okay?” she demanded immediately, despite the fact that she’d obviously been asleep.

“Aye, aye, I’m fine,” he assured her hurriedly. “Sorry to wake you, but we’re—I’m outside.” He winced, and Dany covered her mouth. Luckily, his mother was still half-asleep and didn’t seem to catch his inadvertent slip of the tongue.

“What? Already? Jon, I told you not to drive all the way through!” she scolded, and he rolled his eyes. He couldn’t very well tell her he hadn’t, in fact, driven all the way through.

“You gonna let me in, or do I gotta sleep in the car?” he asked instead, and she sighed. He heard shuffling sounds on her end of the phone.

“I’m coming. Just give me a minute.”

With that, she hung up, and Jon shoved his phone into his back pocket. He and Dany got out of his car and grabbed their bags from the trunk before heading into the apartment building where his mother lived. At this time of night, they were the only ones walking around, so they got an elevator to her floor in record timing. They’d just beat her to the door when she opened it, squinting in the harsh light of the hallway. She had a robe pulled on over her pajamas.

“Jon—” Her eyes went wide at the unexpected sight of Dany at his side. “Dany?”

“Surprise,” she said with a tentative smile.

“ _Seven hells_.” Lyanna threw the door open and pulled Jon into a stranglehold.

He squeezed her back. “Happy Christmas, mum,” he said against the top of her head. He’d been taller than her since he turned seventeen, but he didn’t think he would ever get used to it.

“Yeah, yeah.” Releasing him, she comically pushed him aside to grab Dany in a bear hug. “Oh my gods, it’s so good to see you! What are you doing here? When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Dany laughed at the rapid-fire questions. “Not too long ago. I was in Winterfell for Christmas, and I bullied Jon into letting me tag along. I wanted to surprise you.”

Lyanna huffed and pulled back. “Well, I’m certainly surprised! I would have been less worried about him if I’d realized he had you with him.”

“I’m an officer of the Night’s Watch,” he reminded her wryly. “I’m pretty adept at taking care of myself.” Taking Dany’s bag from her, Jon walked into his mother’s apartment to put their stuff down inside. They shut the door and followed behind him.

Rolling her eyes, Lyanna looked at Dany. “And he knows that’s exactly why I worry about him.” Meeting Jon’s eyes, Dany bit her lip to suppress a smile. He shook his head, exasperated, though he couldn’t say it didn’t feel nice being fretted over. Lyanna changed the topic. “Anyway, I’ve got the guest bedroom set up, but unfortunately I only planned for one of you. That’s the only spare bed I have.”

“I’ll take the couch,” they both said simultaneously, then looked at each other.

“I already stole your bed once,” Dany argued.

“I’m not making you sleep on the couch,” he countered.

Lyanna interrupted, apologetic. “Technically, I’m not sure either of you _could_ sleep on the couch. It’s a two-seater.”

They turned toward the living room. Indeed, there were only two loveseats arranged around the coffee table. No full-length couch. Jon cursed silently and looked back to Dany.

“Well, I’m definitely not making you sleep on that,” he said.

“I could probably fit on it better than you,” she pointed out.

Lyanna held up her hand to referee. “You two figure it out amongst yourselves. I love you both, but I’ve got to be up for work in a couple hours.” She hugged and kissed them each once more. “I’ve got a twelve-hour shift at the hospital tomorrow, but I’ll be home for dinner. I invited Arthur over as well. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Jon answered. He and Dany wished her goodnight.

“There are extra blankets in the hall closet!” she yelled over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway. Once her bedroom door shut behind her, Jon and Dany looked at each other warily.

“I’ve got a sleeping bag in my trunk,” he offered.

“We can take turns sleeping in the bed,” she suggested. It was probably the only compromise they were going to reach. Jon knew she wasn’t going to let him accept any other deal. Reluctantly, he agreed then left to retrieve the said sleeping bag from his car.

* * *

That night, Jon claimed the sleeping bag. It wasn’t hard to convince Dany since he already had it in hand and wouldn’t relinquish it without an ensuing tug-of-war, so she grudgingly took the guest room. The comfort of a bed would have been lost on Jon, anyway; after his long nap in the car, he was wide-awake. After unrolling his sleeping bag in the living room, he tossed and turned for a while, only managing to just fall asleep before his mother left for her hospital shift.

Jon didn’t sleep for long, too accustomed to early morning wakeup calls. Once Dany was up, they decided to make a day of exploring King’s Landing since she had never been before. Jon had only visited his mother a couple times since she moved down there after he went off to college, but he knew the area well enough to act as a passable tour guide. They went sight-seeing at Visenya’s Hill and Hill of Rhaenys, then the Great Sept of Baelor. Afterward, they went to Flea Bottom, a crowded market square full of trinket shops and restaurants, and ate lunch at a noodle bar called Tobho Mott’s.

By late afternoon, they headed back to the apartment. They decided to order takeout for dinner so Lyanna wouldn’t have to cook after a long shift—and because neither of them was very adept at cooking themselves.

Lyanna returned half past five, just as the delivery guy was dropping off bags of YiTish food. She looked ready to faint out of sheer gratitude.

“Let me change out of my scrubs and see if Arthur can come over now,” she said before scurrying off to her bedroom. Jon rolled up his sleeping bag and blankets and stashed them along with his other personal items in the guest room for the time being.

After Lyanna gave them the go-ahead, Dany and Jon began setting the table for dinner and transferring the food onto serving dishes. It gave Jon a strange sense of déjà vu from their years in Winterfell as a blended family; only Rhaegar was missing, of course. And now his relationship with Dany felt much different than it had when they were teenagers.

Once the table was set, Dany excused herself to freshen up after hiking all over King’s Landing all day. Jon was alone in the living room when the doorbell rang. Arthur. Bracing himself, Jon got up to answer the door, hoping his face didn’t look as sullen as it usually did. For his mother’s sake, he wanted to like the new boyfriend.

On the other side of the door was a man of average height with fair skin, dark brown hair and purple eyes. It seemed his mother had a thing for violet-eyed men, Jon mused then quickly shook the thought. “Hey,” he said in casual greeting, and the man smiled.

“Ah, you must be Jon. You look just like Lyanna.” He shook Jon’s hand. “Arthur. It’s nice to finally meet you. She talks about you all the time.”

Jon couldn’t say the same, though he didn’t blame his mother for not going in depth about her love life with her son; he was pretty reticent about his own when she asked. He took a step back. “Nice to meet you, too. Come on in. The food’s ready.”

“Thanks.” Once inside, an awkward silence ensued, but thankfully it was short-lived. Having heard the doorbell, Lyanna came hurrying out of her bedroom just as she finished tying off her hair in a bun on top of her head. Her face lit up when she saw Arthur, and he grinned. “Hey, hon.”

Jon studiously averted his eyes as they hugged and kissed, relieved when Dany emerged from the guest room just then. She caught sight of the PDA happening behind him and covered her mouth to hide a smile.

“Hello,” she said, raising her voice pointedly.

The two drew apart, though Lyanna lingered at Arthur’s side. “I assume you met my son, Jon. Arthur, this is Daenerys. My—well, in a lot of ways she was like a daughter to me, but I guess technically she’s my ex-sister-in-law.” Dany and Lyanna laughed, and at Arthur’s confused look, Lyanna tried to explain. “I used to be married to her brother, Rhaegar.”

His confusion cleared, though only slightly. “Ah, right. The infamous ex.” Lyanna elbowed him, and he dutifully clamped his mouth shut.

Dany smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t be reporting back to him after this, so don’t feel like you have to hold back on my account.”

Arthur chuckled, putting an arm around Lyanna. “No offense, but I hope to not spend much of my time tonight talking about her ex-husband.”

“No offense taken,” Dany said easily.

“Anyone else hungry? I’m starving,” Jon intervened. Knowingly, Lyanna patted his cheek like he was eight years old again, and they made their way to the dining table to sit down.

They passed around the dishes, family-style, taking what they wanted. Once they started to eat, the awkwardness gradually dissipated. Jon learned that Arthur Dayne was a professor of history at Summerhall. He’d met Lyanna at the hospital where she worked after breaking his foot during a hike in the kingswood. More than that, he seemed to adore her, and they had an easy rapport, trading affectionate quips and sharing laughs. Witnessing this, Jon felt like he could relax, though he still mostly just listened. Lyanna and Dany were natural conversationalists, and they had a lot to catch up on, too, as Dany detailed her studies and work in Meereen over the past few years. Soon, they’d eaten their fill of YiTish food, and Lyanna broke out the wine, doling out generous pours for them all.

“What do you plan to do now?” Lyanna asked Dany from her perch on Arthur’s lap. Emboldened by the wine, she’d snuggled up to him after dinner. It only made Jon _slightly_ nauseous. “Are you staying in Westeros for good?”

Dany sipped her wine. “I have options. There are a few jobs here I’m interested in, but I’m still deciding.”

“What are they?” Lyanna asked curiously.

Dany shrugged. “There are human rights advocacy groups all over the country looking for lawyers,” she said evasively. Noticing the way she twisted a ring on her finger, Jon narrowed his eyes.

“Like what?” he pressed. As much time as they’d spent together lately, he was still clueless about her future job plans, which was beginning to seem stranger by the minute.

She looked at him, then away. A nervous smile skittered across her face. “Well.” She hesitated, then said, “I’ve already had a couple interviews with TAFF.”

TAFF. The Advancement of the Freefolk. That took Jon back, though Lyanna and Arthur didn’t seem to immediately get the problem. They watched the exchange with mild confusion. “Seriously?” Jon asked, an edge of betrayal to his voice.

Dany’s expression tightened. “They’re very concerned with the humane treatment of the freefolk at the border. The issue of indigenous rights is an issue I worked on extensively while in Meereen—”

“What does that mean?” Jon demanded, immediately on the defensive. “What treatment?”

She pinched her lips together and finally met his gaze head-on. “Jon, I know you work for the Night’s Watch, but as in any country with shared land borders, there’s always the issue of how immigrants are treated by the government of the countries they enter. TAFF exists to make sure their basic human rights aren’t being violated, and if they are, they want to provide a legal recourse for them.”

Stunned, he sat back. “You—so you think I’m, what, exactly? Complicit in their abuse at the Wall?”

His question hung heavy in the air. Lyanna and Arthur had grown somber, and Dany seemed to struggle with her next words. “No. I think...I think you might not be fully aware of what goes on at the border,” she said finally.

He glared at her. “So I’m not complicit, I’m just naive,” he supplied bitingly. She didn’t say anything, dropping her gaze.

Lyanna sighed quietly. “Jon—”

He shook his head, holding up his hand as he knocked back the rest of his wine. “It’s fine. I don’t want to ruin this dinner, so I’m going to remove myself. Arthur, it was nice meeting you.”

He didn’t wait for a response, pushing back from the table. Since it wasn’t his apartment, he didn’t really have a place to retreat, so he opted to step out onto the patio, hoping the night air would cool the angry flush in his cheeks. Resisting the petulant urge to slam the glass door behind him, Jon stepped up to the balcony railing and gripped it in his hands; he squeezed until pain radiated through his palms.

Gods, sometimes he wished he still smoked. He’d quit not long after joining the Watch, since the job was so physically demanding. Now, he’d never felt healthier. He snorted under his breath. He wasn’t sure if that was ironic or not, that a job could do so much good for him while apparently doing so much harm to others.

He wasn’t aware of how much time passed before the door opened behind him. Quietly, Dany stepped up beside him, wrapped in a blanket. He didn’t look at her.

She was the first to speak. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, still looking out over the city below.

“That I didn’t tell you sooner,” she replied. “About the job interviews. I guess I didn’t want to disturb the—the new-found friendship between us. I don’t judge you—”

“Don’t you?” he interrupted harshly. When she didn’t immediately answer, he looked at her. She looked sad, which made him sad. “You should.”

Her brow pinched in confusion. “What?”

Shaking his head, Jon looked away and clenched the railing again. He was slowly coming to a realization about himself, though if he was being honest with himself, it was something he’d already known, deep down.

“You’re right. My job—the Watch—it’s not what I thought it would be. I _was_ naive. I’ve been trying to reconcile who I am now with who I wanted to be, who I thought I _could_ be—” He let out a breath and rattled the balcony in his frustration. “ _Fuck_. I wanted—I thought in joining the Night’s Watch, I could be like Uncle Benjen. I thought I was honoring him. His memory. But instead I feel like I’ve only succeeded in dishonoring myself.”

After a moment, Dany leaned her hip against the railing and angled herself so she was facing him. “You know, when I was getting my undergrad in Meereen, I interned for a Pentoshi diplomat,” she began. Jon didn’t know where she was going with this, but he listened intently. “I was interested in politics, and I always knew I wanted to be a lawyer, but at the time I wasn’t very...discerning in the work I accepted. I was earnest and overeager and wanting to prove myself. I was also pretty naive about Essosi politics in general. Unfortunately, I realized too late the diplomat I was interning for was heavily involved in human trafficking.” He looked at her sharply; her face was stoic, but in her eyes he could see the pain and regret and shame. “You could say I was complicit, too.”

“That’s not the same. You didn’t know.”

“Maybe not.” She chewed on the inside of her lip, then continued. “But once you _do_ know, you can make that decision to do better. It’s largely why I decided to get my MA in human rights.”

Jon fell quiet again as he mulled it over. “It sucks,” he said eventually, then let out a huff. “I actually like my boss. But I bloody _hate_ my job.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

He let out a brittle laugh. “I don’t know. Start drafting my resignation letter, I guess. ‘Dear Lord Commander Mormont: Thanks for the long overdue vacation. By the way, I quit.’” Dany smiled sympathetically, and he groaned, dropping his forehead against the cold railing. “Fucking hell. I don’t know what else to do with my life.”

“It’s never too late to start over. Hey.” He lifted his head to look at her, and she smiled more widely. “The good news is: At least you get to agonize over it from the comfort of a bed tonight.”

* * *

Lyanna had one more twelve-hour shift before the New Year, so once again Jon and Dany were left to their own devices the following day. As per their deal, Jon had taken the guest bed the night before while Dany slept in the sleeping bag in the living room. Faced with the life-changing decision ahead of him, Jon had gotten very little sleep. He dragged himself out of bed later than usual and tried to wake himself up with a scalding hot shower, then ventured out into the living room to find Dany already up.

“There’s some scrambled eggs if you want ‘em,” she told him before disappearing into the guest bathroom to shower next. Jon ate and finished off two cups of coffee by the time she was done, her damp hair combed into a simple braid.

“What do you want to do today?” she asked, and he answered honestly.

“Nothing.”

So that was what they did: parked their arses on the loveseats and shotgunned terrible Netflix movie after terrible Netflix movie. He appreciated the mindless diversion, and by the time Lyanna returned from her shift, he was in a better mood compared to the previous night.

She walked through the front door in the middle of a movie, so she simply sat down beside Jon on the loveseat, not even bothering to change out of her scrubs. He held up the blanket he’d spread out, and she snuggled under it, then hugged him against her side. It reminded him of when he used to get sick as a child, and she would sit with him on the couch, smoothing back his hair as she held him.

“How was work?” he asked.

“Shitty,” she whispered so as not to disrupt the movie. “How was your day?”

“You’re looking at it.”

Lyanna studied the movie then laughed. “Is Dany making you watch rom-coms?”

At Dany’s sound of outrage, Jon slid down to hide under the blanket more. “This was his pick, actually,” Dany said, and Lyanna threw her head back with a laugh.

“It’s a good movie,” Jon said in his defense.

They ordered pizza for dinner, and Jon left to make a quick beer run for his own peace of mind, since his mother was solely a wine drinker. When he returned, the pizza had arrived, and Dany and Lyanna had picked a different movie to watch in his absence. He settled in next to his mother with a beer and a plate of pizza. It was nice, feeling so relaxed and at ease with the both of them.

Eventually, Dany called it a night and retreated to the guest room to sleep. Jon and Lyanna finished the movie that was on but didn’t choose another one to follow it up; instead, she arranged the blanket over their laps and leaned back against the couch.

“I’m really glad you came to visit,” she told him. “Dany, too.”

“Me too.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about dinner last night. I hope I didn’t make things weird for you and Arthur.”

She laughed, patting his knee. “No, I think it would take more than an awkward family dinner to scare him off.”

Jon smiled slightly. “Well, I like him better than the last one. What was his name again?”

Lyanna groaned. “Petyr. Gods. Don’t remind me. I’m trying to erase that one from my mind.”

He laughed, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Lyanna broke it after a moment. “So what do you plan to do?” At his inquisitive look, she clarified. “About the Night’s Watch.”

He didn’t miss the note of reserved hope in her voice. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “The job isn’t really what I thought it would be. I don’t think I want to keep working there, but...I don’t know what else I’m really good at.”

“You’re good at a lot of things,” she said earnestly, like any mum would. He smiled drolly but didn’t contradict her, not out loud anyway. “You’re still young. I didn’t start my job as a nurse until my 30s. You can always come live with me while you figure it out.”

“Thanks,” he said, laughing. “Though moving back home at 24 isn’t exactly where I saw my life going either.”

She cut him a look. “There are a lot of things I didn’t foresee about my own life, but sometimes that works out for the best.” He conceded her point with a nod. “Maybe Ned could use your work at the kennels. I’m sure he and Cat would open their house to you in a heartbeat, if you wanted to stay up North. Especially if Dany gets that job with TAFF.”

Blinking, Jon looked at her. “What?” His face went inexplicably hot. “What does she have to do with this?”

Lyanna shrugged. “I’m just saying, if you wanted to be near her.” She gave him a sly look. “I can see there’s something going on between you two.”

“Mum!” His eyes darted to the bedroom door to double check it was closed. He rubbed at his neck, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “Bloody hell. There’s nothing—she just tagged along because she wanted to see you again. I hadn’t even talked to her in years before seeing her at Christmas.”

She laughed. “Oh, please. I know you had a crush on her when she lived with us.”

His eyes bulged. “ _Mum_ —come on,” he groaned, embarrassed. He sank deeper into the couch, wanting to disappear under the blanket.

“What? It’s not a big deal,” she insisted.

“Aye, it is! It’s embarrassing!”

“You were a teenage boy. She was a pretty girl. It’s perfectly understandable!” Lyanna snorted. “It’s even more understandable _now_. She’s a gorgeous young woman—”

“Can you stop?” he demanded, but she talked over him.

“And, for what it’s worth, it’s not just on your end.”

He stopped and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, a pleased smirk on her face. “I think she likes you, too.”

He flushed hot again, his eyes darting to the closed bedroom door once more. “She doesn’t,” he said, but he was less certain now.

“Jon.” Lyanna looked at him like he was stupid. “She was really upset when she thought she hurt you last night. I had to assure her it would all be fine, that you wouldn’t hold a grudge against her.”

He shook his head and scoffed. “That doesn’t mean anything. She’s just...an empathetic person.”

She shrugged again. “Maybe. You’ll see. Call it mother’s intuition. I know when a girl is interested in my son,” she said with a laugh, and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t say it like that. It’s weird. Isn’t it?” he worried. “Like...you used to be married to her brother. We used to be family.”

“Not by blood, and Rhaegar and I are definitely _not_ together anymore. Haven’t you seen ‘Clueless’?” she asked. He frowned, not understanding the connection. She sighed patiently. “That’s about two people who used to be step-siblings falling in love. Nobody batted an eye at them, and I think that was _much_ weirder than this.”

“Okay, but that’s a movie. That’s not real life,” he argued.

Lyanna smiled wistfully. “Sometimes real life can be just like the movies.”

He groaned. “Gods, you really like this Arthur guy, don’t you? He’s turned you into a bloody romantic.” She just laughed, pinching his cheek before getting up from the couch.

* * *

“Are you guys sure you want to ring in the New Year with a couple of old fogies like us?” Lyanna asked the next day. The current plan to celebrate New Year’s Eve was to stay in and watch the ball drop at the Red Keep. Her apartment was pretty close to the action, but none of them wanted to brave the crushing crowds just to see in person what they could witness from the comfort of her living room.

“I came here to spend time with you,” Jon replied easily. Dany agreed.

“I’m perfectly content staying in.”

Jon offered to run to the store for last-minute provisions, like champagne and finger foods to nibble on during the celebrations, and Dany volunteered to go with him. He’d meant to go alone, but there was no way to tell her no without making it weird.

Lyanna gave him a knowing look, which he steadfastly ignored it. He wished she hadn’t put the idea in his head—not that he needed the help, but now that there was a _small_ possibility Dany felt the same way he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. And that made acting normal around her bloody impossible.

“Are you alright?” she asked when they were at the store, making him jump. He’d been studying the bottles of champagne, wondering what the difference was between cava and prosecco.

“Aye. Why?” he asked nervously.

“You’ve just been really quiet today, more than usual,” she said, grabbing a couple bottles of prosecco. That settled that, then. He grabbed two more bottles of the stuff.

Jon shrugged, ducking her gaze as they went to check out. “Just doing some thinking.”

“About?” she prompted.

“The usual end-of-year reflections,” he said with an evasive smile. Thankfully, Dany dropped the subject.

Around six that evening, Arthur finally arrived. They turned on “Bobby B’s New Year’s Eve Stag Party” on the TV, then sat down at the dining table to play board games. The champagne was uncorked early, spaced out between glasses of wine and beer so they wouldn’t run out of the stuff before midnight; periodically, Lyanna would get up to retrieve snacks from the kitchen once they were done cooking in the oven.

Eventually, they moved to the living room and camped out on the loveseats to watch TV, with Jon and Dany on one, and Lyanna and Arthur snuggled close on the other. Despite the alcohol clouding his system, Jon was acutely aware of Dany seated beside him, dressed in a simple black dress and tights, though the addition of her fuzzy bedroom slippers was more endearing than sexy.

Right before midnight, they topped off their champagne flutes and began the countdown as the ball (a large dragon egg replica) began its slow descent at the Red Keep, with the large crowd watching in awe. On “one,” they all cheered and yelled “Happy New Year!” at each other before trading hugs. Jon even hugged his mother’s new boyfriend, feeling the spirit of the moment—and probably the encouragement of the booze.

Unfortunately, Lyanna and Arthur started making out just as Bobby B began a drunkenly rousing rendition of “Auld Lang Syne” on the TV, much to his co-host Cersei Lannister’s annoyance. Jon and Dany looked around awkwardly.

“More champagne?” he asked her, and she nodded desperately. They both scurried off to the kitchen to open a new bottle.

Dany laughed as he filled up her glass. “Wow. Lyanna can still get it in, can’t she?”

He made a face. “Please don’t say that.”

“What?” she asked innocently, sipping her champagne. “You don’t like me pointing out that your mother is probably going to be getting laid tonight?”

He looked at her in horror. “Seven hells, Dany! Why would you put that in my head?” She laughed again, nearly choking on her champagne. Jon filled up his flute then downed it in one gulp.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sobering quickly. “Maybe this will distract you?” Jon had no time to brace himself when she cupped his face and brought his mouth down to hers, pressing their lips together in a wet, champagne-bubble kiss.

She lingered only a few seconds then released him. He stared at her, stunned into speechlessness. She smiled softly. “Happy New Year, Jon.”

With that, she grabbed the bottle of champagne out of his hand and carried it into the living room. “Who wants more bubbly?” she called to the others.

* * *

Jon laid out his sleeping bag in the guest bedroom, in the space between the wall and the bed. He stripped out of his button-down and pants but left his undershirt on then quickly dove under the blankets before Dany could come out of the bathroom. Technically, it was his night to sleep in the bed, but as drunk as she was, he didn’t feel right making her sleep on the floor. Dany would only agree to the change if he brought his sleeping bag into the room. Why, he didn’t know, but once Arthur and Lyanna had called it a night and stumbled into her bedroom together, Jon wasn’t eager to sleep out in the living room.

After a few minutes of listening to the faucet run, Jon heard it shut off, and Dany emerged. She’d changed into her sleep shirt, the one he remembered from the night he discovered her in his bed at the Starks’ house. As she climbed onto the bed in the dark, he went slack-jawed; she had shorts on underneath, but they might as well have been non-existent with how far they rode up her arse.

He slammed his eyes shut as soon as he realized he was gawking, listening to the rustling of sheets as she got settled. When it was quiet, he let out a breath and rolled onto his side.

“Jon?”

He froze. “What?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. He could detect the slightest slur to her words. The bed creaked as she wiggled closer to the edge of the bed to talk to him. Her arm lowered over the side, her hand dangling in the space between him and the bed, her fingers just skimming the floor. “Didn’t know if you were asleep yet.”

“No,” he replied, watching the aimless movement of her fingers.

“Okay.” She sighed then fell quiet, eventually stirring after a moment to say, “Thanks for letting me tag along on your trip. I had fun.”

Jon licked his dry lips. “Me too.”

“It’s been nice getting to know you again.” He nodded even though she couldn’t see him. Her fingers flexed, dragging across the carpet. “I wish we hadn’t waited so long to become friends.”

“Aye,” he said hoarsely, his voice gruff.

They fell silent again until, “Jon?”

“What?”

She didn’t immediately reply, and he wondered if she’d drifted off to sleep. She surprised him when she eventually answered. “You weren’t the only one, you know?” she said softly. He grunted in question. “When we were younger. I thought you were cute, too. I still do.”

“Oh,” he said stupidly. She didn’t say anything more, her breathing soft in the quiet of the room. For lack of a better response, Jon reached for her hand, gingerly wrapping his fingers around hers. Instantly, her fingers curled around his in kind.

At some point, they fell asleep like that.

* * *

In the morning, they didn’t talk about what had happened, neither the kiss nor what was said in the cloak of darkness. They went about their day like normal, eating breakfast with Lyanna and Arthur, then packing up their belongings. Before noon, they said their goodbyes with promises to visit again in the near future and left, beginning the long drive back to Winterfell.

Despite the knowledge of what had transpired between them, Jon didn’t feel weird or uncomfortable. Dany seemed unbothered, as well, though they were quiet as they left King’s Landing behind. Occasionally, they talked, mostly about nothing of importance. There was a palpable tension and energy in the car, an unspoken awareness. More than anything, Jon just felt...impatient.

Even so, he was no longer worried about making the drive in one-shot. They stopped when they needed to, whether for food or gas. During their last pit stop to fuel up, they went into the gas station to use the bathroom and stock up on provisions.

When Jon came out of the bathroom, Dany was nowhere to be found. After looking around, he quickly purchased a bottle of water and a bag of chips, then hurried back outside where he found her already waiting in his car.

“Did you not want anything?” he asked her after he got back in the driver’s seat.

She indicated the plastic bag at her feet. “I got what I needed,” she said simply, scrolling through her phone. Bemused, Jon got them back on the road as Dany cued up a podcast for them to listen to; it was her compromise between her preference for music and his for talk radio.

When it got late enough, Jon finally stopped at a motel along their route where they could sleep for the night. As they checked in, Jon only asked for one room, but he was unprepared when the front desk clerk asked, “Would you like one bed or two?”

Heat crept into his face. “Ah—” But Dany answered for him, “One is fine.”

As the clerk typed the information into the computer, Jon glanced at Dany. She didn’t look at him, though, smiling politely when the clerk handed over their room key.

They had to go back outside to get to their room, neither talking as they walked. Jon unlocked the outside door, and once inside, he flicked on the lights. In the middle of the room was one queen-size bed. He stared at it apprehensively, but Dany moved around him to put her bag down on it.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she announced, grabbing her toiletries and pajamas from her bag.

“Okay,” he said distractedly as she slipped into the bathroom. He had nothing to do but wait, slipping out of his shoes and leather coat. It had gotten colder again, now that they were closer to the North. He laid down on the bed and turned on the TV to mindlessly surf through the channels until Dany was done in the bathroom. Eventually, he heard the shower cut off and the sink come on as she brushed her teeth.

Soon, she emerged, fresh-faced, her hair loose and towel-dried. She’d dressed in her sleep shirt and leggings. Jon swallowed and quickly sat up.

“I should shower, too,” he murmured as she moved around the room. She just nodded and busied herself with rifling through her travel bag. With his toothbrush and a change of clothes in hand, he breezed by her into the bathroom. It was muggy from the heat of her shower, the mirror still fogged up; there was one clear spot where she’d wiped away the condensation.

Jon stripped out of his clothes and started up the shower again, the scent of the motel-provided soaps Dany had used lingering heavily in the air. He washed himself with the same soaps, then scrubbed the suds into his hair and beard before completely rinsing off.

Once he was done, he hurriedly toweled off and changed into his pajamas, then brushed his teeth with deliberate focus. After he was done, he stared at his reflection, nearly vibrating with nervous energy. He was stalling, he knew, but he couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. He took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door—

Only to realize the lights were off, and Dany was already in bed, turned away from him, seemingly asleep. Confused, disappointed, and a little embarrassed, Jon hesitated in the doorway before making himself turn off the bathroom light, pitching them into complete darkness. He fumbled around the room, blindly feeling his way to the bed. When he reached it, he lifted the covers and slid in behind her. Carefully, he lay down on his side, facing the direction she was but leaving a respectable amount of space between them.

He didn’t move for a moment, eyes still wide open as he tried to make sense of what had gone awry. He’d thought—he must have misunderstood her entirely—

Suddenly, Dany turned over to face him. His breath caught in his throat; turning onto her side had brought her closer to him, and his eyes had adjusted enough that he could see her eyes were open as well. In the tense quiet between them, she searched his face then brought a hand up to his face. Finally, she leaned in, her head coming to rest on his pillow next to his. Then, slowly, she pressed her mouth to his in a gentle kiss, parting his lips with her own. Her tongue brushed his in a tentative touch. That was all the invitation he needed; Jon opened his mouth to kiss her deeper, stroking his tongue into her mouth. The sound she made—a soft whimper in the back of her throat—went straight to his cock, making him instantly hard.

Suddenly, they were frantic, mouths coming together in wet, hungry kisses, breaths ragged, hands grasping and demanding. Her teeth were sharp edges against his lips, soon made tender by her desperate kisses. Jon’s hand found her clothed hip under the covers, and he dragged her close. As if in silent agreement, they both pulled away to suck in air and stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Is this weird?” he rasped in a hushed voice. He almost kicked himself for asking, but she shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she whispered. “Do you think it’s weird?”

“No,” he answered honestly, surprising himself. “Is it weird that it’s not weird?”

Her brow furrowed. “No? I don’t know. Let’s not talk ourselves into thinking it’s weird.” Before he could reply, she pressed her lips to his again, her hands coming around his neck, nails lightly cutting into his skin.

As they kissed, this time a more languid, thorough exploration of the other’s mouth, Jon pushed his hand up under her shirt, his fingers trailing over the waistband of her panties and up the bare flesh of her hip and side. She flinched as he touched her stomach and pressed closer to him. He grazed the underside of her breast and traced the shape of her tit before ever so gingerly cupping it in his palm. Dany moaned around his tongue and pushed her breast into his hand. He began kneading it, brushing his thumb back and forth over the pebbled nipple, which tightened under his attentions.

“Jon,” she gasped. He released her breast to tug her shirt up to her neck so he could watch as he fondled her. His tanned hand was a stark contrast on her pale skin, and soon he was breathing as hard as she was as he played with her nipple, pinching the dusky pink bud between his fingers, pulling until she cried out. In penance, he lowered his mouth to soothe her nipple with his tongue, sucking at it lightly.

After some time of this torture, Dany pushed him away, surging up on her elbow to force him down to the bed. Jon rolled onto his back to accommodate her, making a sound of shock when she climbed on top of him, her knees straddling his waist. She dragged her shirt up over her head and tossed it aside, her silver hair falling in damp locks around her shoulders and breasts. As dim as it was, he marveled at the sight of her, but then Dany was impatiently pushing up on his t-shirt. Jon leaned up so she could tug it off, then she caught his mouth again, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

He was rock-hard now, a fact she was no doubt aware of as she was sitting on his cock. He groaned when she rubbed against him, the heat of her evident even through his boxer-briefs and pants.

He was momentarily confused when she pulled away then, reaching over the side of the bed. He held her hips to anchor her as she searched through a bag he couldn’t see on the floor, the rustling of plastic all he could hear. When she sat up, she had a pack of condoms in her hand. His eyes widened.

“Where did you…” he trailed off, watching as she ripped it open and pulled out a condom.

“Gas station,” she answered and carefully tore open the wrapper.

“Oh.” Now things made sense. It was incredibly pleasing, and exciting, realizing she’d been planning this moment since their last provision stop, _at least_.

“Can you…?” She indicated his pants, shifting off him onto the bed, and Jon stood up to shuck them off along with his boxer-briefs. He straightened, suddenly aware of her eyes on his cock. Before he could climb back into bed, she touched him, her warm fingers wrapping around his shaft. Jon sucked in a breath, jerking at the unexpected contact, and he thought he might choke on his tongue when she slowly stroked him, bringing her mouth closer to flick her tongue out and lick up the wetness dribbling from the tip.

“Fuck—Dany—”

She pulled back and rolled the condom down onto his cock, securing it around the base. She sat down on her arse, leaning back on her elbows, and Jon took the opportunity to pull her panties down her legs, leaving her as naked as he was. Then he climbed back into the bed with her, awkwardly bumping against her as they shifted into position.

“Sorry—”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, grabbing his face. They stopped for a moment to stare at each other, then he kissed her again, tasting the sweetness of her tongue. Belatedly, he realized he’d neglected to taste her cunt, too, but she was already beneath him, her knees steepled on either side of his hips as she reached between them to fist his cock and line it up between her thighs. _Next time,_ he decided, then he was sinking into her, his cock pushing into the tight, wet channel of her cunt. She gasped, her walls tightening around him instinctively, but he thrust, sliding against the resistance until he was buried inside her. She moaned, arching against him, impatiently rolling her hips to urge him on. With a groan, Jon began moving, his arms holding his weight off her so he could thrust into her.

“Jon,” she mewled, her hands clawing at his back and arse, holding him tightly as he fucked her. He kissed her, his breaths harsh pants against her lips. Shifting on top of her, he brought his hand between them to cup her tit. He rolled the nipple under his thumb, pinching and pulling until she was moaning. Her cunt clenched around his cock, and he slipped his hand down between the sweaty glide of their flesh against each other’s, finding the wetness of her cunt, and the swollen, fleshy nub of her clit. He rubbed it with the tips of his middle and ring fingers, quickly bringing her to a shaking orgasm. Crying out, she threw her head back as she came, her slick walls rippling around his cock in pulsing contractions. Jon kissed her neck and buried his face there as he moved more quickly inside her, bracing his hands on either side of her; then he drove his hips into her hard and fast, feeling the surge of his own climax. With a gasp he spilled into the condom, rocking inside her with mindless, shallow thrusts, her cunt cinching around his cock to wring the last of his cum from him.

Once he’d come to his senses again, he made himself roll off her, but that was all the effort he had energy for. He couldn’t bring himself to get up and trash the condom just yet, his body heavy and boneless. They lay side by side, both still panting as the sweat gradually dried on their skin.

“Seven hells,” Jon said hoarsely, in lieu of something more romantic. With a breathless laugh, Dany rolled onto her side to face him, propping her head up on her hand. He lifted his eyes to hers, and she grinned, her violet eyes dancing.

“Not a bad start to the New Year.”

* * *

“Here you are,” Jon said after he pulled into the Starks’ driveway.

“You sure you don’t wanna come in and say hi to everybody?” Dany asked hopefully, but he shook his head.

“We already got a late start on the morning,” he reminded her, and she pouted in apology. Not that she was actually sorry; neither was he. They’d woken up early enough but had stayed in bed to explore each other more thoroughly since their immediate needs had been satisfied the night before. They’d managed to drag themselves out of bed in time for checkout, but truthfully Jon had wanted to stay in that motel room with her the rest of the day.

He smiled and glanced toward the house. “If I go in now, I’ll be even later getting back to the Wall.”

“Since you’re planning to quit, I don’t see what it matters,” she pointed out.

“Aye.” His expression sobered. He was dreading that conversation with the Lord Commander. He respected the man, and he hated disappointing him. But Jon had reached an inevitable conclusion lying in that motel bed with Dany at his side. He wanted something more for his life. With her. First, he needed to decide what career path to take next. Then he needed to figure out how to tell his family about him and Dany…but that could wait, just a bit longer. “I’d still rather leave on my own terms instead of being fired.”

Dany nodded in understanding then grabbed her bag from the backseat. “You’ll text me later?” she asked hopefully, and he confirmed. She started to open her door but changed her mind, quickly turning back to him. He was caught by surprise when she leaned over the console and kissed him, their mouths slanting in a slow, bittersweet glide of lips and tongue. Eventually, disappointingly, she pulled back and flashed him one more smile, then she got out of his car, bundled up in her coat.

“Say hello to everyone for me,” he called after her, desperate for one last moment with her.

Jon idled while she made the treacherous trek through the snow to the front door, lifting his hand in farewell when she waved from the porch before disappearing inside. He saw movement in the corner of his eye and glanced at a downstairs window, but there was nothing.

Curiously, as he was driving back to the main road from the Starks’ house, he felt his phone vibrate with multiple texts, one right after the other. Once he was at a safe stop, he pulled his phone out of his pants pocket to check.

Messages from Arya. His heart stopped as he read them.

_OMG_

_HOLY SHIT I TOTALLY SAW THAT KISS_

_HAHAHAHAHAH_

_YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH DANY AREN’T YOU_

_I SO CALLED IT GENDRY OWES ME TWENTY BUCKS_

Well. He supposed that was one dilemma solved.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and a Happy New Year!


End file.
